Hear My Battle Cry Watch Me Fall
by JoinTheClub286
Summary: Quirks are a double edged sword. In a world where being dangerous is beautiful, those without strength are left behind in the shadows. But Sakura has spent too long in the dark— too long being the tag-a-long of Team 7 to see it happen again. So she'll hold her chin high, square her shoulders, and bring light to the darkness. Her name is Sakura Hadou. And it's time to be a hero.
1. Chapter 1

She ducks, the katana whistling past her head. Sakura weaves through a flurry of blows, pink hair a blur as she twists and flips, balance impeccable. The blade flies past her shoulder, the skin of the re-animated corpse grey and flaking. She kicks back, sending the katana flying out of his hand. Grabbing the samurai by the forearm, she twists him over her shoulder and sends him crashing through half of the surrounding forest. The thick, century old oaks snap like twigs in the breeze, tearing the woodland to shreds.

The samurai slumps over, battered armour splattered in blood. _He's down, but not for long _Inner chides. As if on cue, the corpse jumps to its feet, broken bones sliding back into place with a sickening crunch. Sakura visibly grimaces, the noise not sitting well with her. He lunges. Not to be left on the defense, Sakura sprints to meet it, channeling chakra into her gloved fists. The wind stings her cheeks, and sweat runs in rivulets down her back. From only a few metres away she can see the emptiness in his long-dead eyes, hating the detached look plastered on his face. _I wonder if he's in control, _Inner muses. _Or if he's just another one of Madara's puppets. _She pushes the thoughts away, and grits her teeth. At the last second she slides under his legs, ignoring the stench of rotting flesh.

The rusted blade goes sailing over the place where her head should have been.

Landing a solid kick to his back, she watches as his body folds in on itself, spine broken in two. The re-animated nin flies across the battlefield, impaled by a jagged spike of someone's forgotten earth-jutsu. The corpse shudders, dark cracks spider webbing across the body. Falling limp, he twitches one last time and crumbles into strips of paper, disappearing with the wind. He deserved better, she thinks. _The dead should be laid to rest, _Inner agrees, sombre and quiet for once. Sakura falters, throat dry and constricting. He was alive once, and they used him like he was nothing. He died a shell, forgotten and alone. There is a pause as Inner struggles to find the words. _Mourn later, _she settles on. _Survive. _

And so she will.

Sakura turns her attention back to the War, grounding herself in the smell of coppery blood and the corpses of her fallen friends and allies. She will mourn for them- let herself murn for them when the day is done. But for now, she will do what she can. Fight for them. Scream her battlecry for them. She will live another day for them. For everyone. With the heel of her foot, she sends one of the reanimated corpses ten feet down into the earth. Running through a few quick hand signs, Sakura encases the body in a coffin of granite. The ground beneath her shifts and bulges, swallowing the dead kunoichi whole.

Praying for her forgiveness, she heals her bloodied knuckles and dives back into the fray.

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At the end of the day, she lines up with the rest of the medics and clears the bodies from the fields. It's the ugliest part of war.

"Akira, Koyo, with me. Haru, grab the stretchers and help Saya with her earth-jutsu, will you?" she stifles the wavering in her voice and clears her throat, scanning the group of medic-nin with a practised eye. Akira is slathered elbow deep in blood and gore, her white uniform covered in stains. There is a hollowness in her eyes that wasn't there before, and her scrawny frame trembles in the wind. . _What were they fucking thinking, bringing someone so young into this… this- mess! It's sick. The elders are fucking sick. _And every part of Sakura agrees. Akira is young, turning thirteen in only a few months. When Sakura was twelve she was chasing feral cats down alleyways and cleaning trash from the river. Akira's a genin, but picked up medical training a little too well for the village to pass her up. War spares no-one, that much is clear.

Medical teams from Kumo, Suna and Kiri spread over the battlefield in a wave, checking for pulses and missing limbs. Corpses of friends and past foes are laid into caskets and sealed into scrolls, sent back to their respective villages and families. The black scrolls with Leaf insignia have begun to pile up in Tsunade's office, stored carefully away in a chakra sealed environment. The others, those who are unrecognisable, are burned. Surely enough, the smell of charred remains fills the air, unsettling and unwelcomed. She picks through the wastelands with Akira, watching as the girl collects the abandoned hitai-ates and stores them in her pouch. Her hands tremble as she pulls the headband lose from a decapitated head, growing greener by the second. Akira throws her head to the side and retches, tears running down her cheeks.

"Akira-chan!"

Sakura jumps into action, rubbing circles on the young girls back as her heaving slowly comes to a stop. She is shuddering and shaking so violently that Sakura pulls her tight to her chest and utters soft words of forgiveness. She can smell death on every inch of her-from the blood under her nails to the stench of bleach in her hair and ash on her clothes. _War spares no-one_, Inner echoes. And fuck, didn't she know it. Akira shouldn't be here. She should be back home in the leaf, chasing Tora around the village and getting into stupid genin trouble. They should have let her be a kid.

Akira's crying eventually comes to a stop, and she's a dishevelled mess. Her eyes are red, her arms to thin, her heart too soft and hopeful for war. It's like looking in a mirror.

Yes.

This is the ugliest part of war.

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She stops breathing when Ino stumbles into the medical tent, chest ripped wide open. Sakura has seen it all, but the sight of Ino lying unconscious on an operating table is the one that stops her heart in her chest. The medic-nin around her swarm into action, slapping on rubber gloves and surgical masks. Their hands glow green as they try to weave her chest back together, desperately trying to fix the gaping cavity where her lungs should be. Blood soaks the plastic sheets, so dark and so red that it Sakura just stops and stares. _What the fuck are you doing? Help her! Ino is _dying_! _Inner is screaming at her to _move,move,move _but she can't. It's like she's lost touch with every limb in her body, merely a passenger along for the ride. There's so much blood.

"Sakura-sama!" Akira. It's Akira. She can feel her lips moving, forming words, but nothing seems to come out. Her cheek is stinging. _Slapped. Someone slapped her. Akira slapped her. _Her bony limbs beat down on Sakura, begging for her to do something. She is hysterical, screeching and yelling, the other patients stirring to life.

"Please, please, please Sakura-sama! You can fix her- I know you can! I...I don't want  
Ino-sama to die, please!"

Akira pulls at her hands, dragging her over to the surgical table. The nurses avoid her gaze, ducking out of the tent or moving on to tend to other patients. _What are they doing? _She doesn't know.

"W-what are you doing?" Sakura says, rushing to Ino's side. Patches of newly grown tissue form a spider web of muscle and flesh, but the gaping wound is still open and bleeding. Furiously, she channels chakra into her hands and _focuses, _the skin knitting itself back together. She fixes the broken ribs and grows her new viens, but the _bleeding just isn't stopping. _Her lungs are torn to shreds and she is just barely alive, but Ino is a fighter. She'll make it. She has to make it. Sakura pushes harder, green chakra exploding in a flurry of light. She pours everything she has into the awful wound, ignoring the blood pooling at her feet and the quickly cooling body.

"Sakura-san! _Sakura-san! __**She is dead!**_" The head medic wrenches her away, anger scrawled across every inch of her face. Numbness floods her. "There are _hundreds_ of patients flooding this tent- you can save them! But Ino-san is _gone_," she spits the last word out as a curse, and in that moment Sakura wants to break every bone in her body. But what good would that do her? She slumps to the floor, chakra reserves almost emptied. Ino is dead. Gone. The puddle of blood she is lying in is proof enough.

She lets herself fall.

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She misses Ino's funeral by the time she comes too.

From what Naruto tells her though, it was a good send-off. She smiles weakly and tells him that she's glad, or whatever that means, and rolls back into bed. Akira visits often, always smelling strongly of bleach and soap. She holds her hand and tells jokes that never seem to make her laugh, but she appreciates the effort. In the end, Sakura can only look at her for so long before seeing Ino's smile staring back at her. Tsunade drops in every now and again, her position as Hokage keeping her on her feet at all times. They grieve together, Sakura the loss of her best friend and Tsunade the loss of a daughter. Maybe even two, she doesn't know yet. They get drunk and they cry, but Tsunade protects every citizen of the Leaf, and Sakura is only one in a sea of many. She leaves too. Kakashi comes once and only once. He brings a twin pack of Naruto's cup-ramen and they eat them together, the entirety of the ordeal silent and understanding.

He of all people is the most familiar with war.

She doesn't see him for a while after that.

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The battlefield becomes everything that she is, knows and ever will be. She fights without conscious, every move, blow or justus only exist for one purpose. Everything Sakura is exists only for one purpose. To break. She fights without mercy, no longer praying for their forgiveness, but for their pain. She revels in it. Wonders if her fists hurt them as much as they've hurt her. Wonders how long this satisfaction will last.

One of the nin lands a solid blow to her stomach, and she coughs up the remains of last night's dinner. She got distracted. Sakura flies over the corpses head, grips his skull in her hands and _pulls, _tendons snapping as blood speckles the porcelain of her skin. She drops the head, large blue eyes growing dead and cold before flaking away into nothing. Breathing heavily, she clutches at her broken ribs and hisses, green chakra flooding her system. She hates it. She hates it all. The conflict, the fighting, Ino for leaving her and Madara for dragging her into this mess. _His eyes are cold and cruel. _He is a man ready to rip the world to shreds, and a man ready to fix it with broken pieces.

She closes her eyes, tired and aching all over. She pushes apart a khaki tent flap and slumps into bed, covered in a fine layer of dust and sweat. She lets the darkness swallow her whole, falling asleep to the soundtrack of war. She channels chakra to her ears, a cooling sensation circulating through her eardrums. The screaming and yelling grows quieter in an instant, white noise washing over her in a wave. For a moment- everything is quiet. Unusually quiet. Inner? She asks. No response. She asks again, this time more desperate and prodding. Nothing. Sakura sighs, relaxing into the warmth of the doona.

Inner has been silent ever since Ino died.

She has never felt more alone.

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Sakura Hadou is born on the 28th of March, a spring baby, just as they had hoped. With a final push she enters the world with a piercing cry, face scrunched up and unnaturally red. The nurses present her in a soft hospital blanket, bundled and swaddled up like a gift. Though she is in a way, he muses, admiring her unusual tuft of soft pink hair. Gingerly, he places the newborn child in the arms of her mother, who cooes at her arrival.

"She's perfectly healthy," the nurse states, a teasing smile on her lips.

Mizuki laughs softly, exhausted to her very core. Her blue hair is sweat-soaked and flat, plastered to the back of her neck. Her usually bright periwinkle eyes are dull and tired, her grey makeup smudged like bruises under her eyes. She's a mess in the very sense of the word- but she's never looked so radiant. The hospital is mostly silent (save for their daughters ungodly screaming), the cityscape outside gleaming with hundreds of stars. Mizuki cradles their child with an unmistakable tenderness, a side of her that he only sees with one other person. He smiles at this, adjusting his thickly framed glasses.

"She's got quite the lungs on her," she says, gazing down at their daughter with watery eyes.

"Just like her onee-chan," he agrees, and they both laugh at this.

Welcome home Sakura.

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Sakura Haruno is dead.

But Sakura Hadou is not.

There is warmth on her skin and a heart in her chest, red and pulsing with life. She is here and she is not. Belonging to one world, and belonging to another, but not quite fitting in between. As she delves in the space between the dead and the living, watery images of her life pass her by in streams of silver and blue, rippling on the rivers of time. She sees the day she was born- her parents Mebuki and Kizashi cradling a newborn with pink hair and wide blue eyes. _Blue? _No, that can't possibly be right. Her eyes are green, spring green (Ino had pointed it out herself). Everyone knows her eyes are green. _Blue _the memory warbles, shifting and changing. Mebukis blonde hair darkens to a deep shade of navy, her pale eyes quickly following suit. The scene around her crumbles like wet paper, falling through her waiting fingers like paste.

_No no no...what? Stop!_

The scene rebuilds itself, a grainy image projecting itself onto the murky waters. Konoha's old hospital is replaced by a soft green bed and sparkling new equipment, too detailed and complex and _new _for her to understand. The woman in the bed is beautiful- sculpted like a fine boned doll.. Her swollen stomach moves with her every breath, her hands gripping tightly at the metal railings. The man next to her clutches his hand in hers, wincing when the contraction hits and the bones in his fingers creak. With a trembling cry, the baby is free, spilling into the world with a victorious scream. The man and woman are delighted, cooing over the newborn with a sudden fondness that Sakura hasn't seen in a while.

"_Welcome home Sakura"_

The babys eyes open ever so slowly, blue and bright like her mothers. The breath in her lungs comes to a halt. Those are her eyes. Her eyes in that child.

The scene changes again as Sakura flows downstream, snapshots of years and stolen moments flying over her head in blurry pictures and muffled sounds. The colours build up around her, like building blocks locking into place _everything just makes sense_. But yet it doesn't. Not in the slightest. An energetic six-year old leaps down the stairs, duck-printed socks sliding over the polished wood. She is a flurry of energy- and by _god is this girl a stomper. _Even from the Afterworld the image still ripples with the pounding of her feet, shockwaves running across the usually still water.

The blue haired girl comes to a stop outside the living room, eyes alight with a dozen questions.

"_Imouto!" _

A placid, pink haired child flips through tv channels from her spot on the couch, her yellow shirt plastered with a series of images to blurry to make out. Her blue eyes are calm and collected, like that of an adult instead of a four-year old child. It paints a peculiar picture.

"_Shhh… onee-chan, come watch. It's just about to start."_

_It's all just about to start…. _

_this is only the beginning…._

The water ripples again, tugging her downwards and away from the bubbling laughter of the two girls. She scrambles for something, anything to hold onto- but it's useless. The images simply flow through her fingers, unaffected by her touch. She plunges into the next moment, scene, time period- whatever this is, and watches.

The setting around her wobbles into focus, revealing two long figures on a deserted rooftop. The sky is open and blue, white clouds rolling across the sky in wisps of cotton and forgotten promises. It's the baby from the hospital, she realises. All grown up a decade and a half-later, she sidles up beside a smudged figure and turns to him, face unclear in the churning waters. She sees blobs of colours, the faintest of smells, and barely tangible noises. The memory is there, but it's not whole. They talk for what seems like hours, the minutes trudging by at an impossibly slow pace.

"_You're not happy to see me."_

"_No, I'm not."_

"_You-"_

The water swallows her, pulling her away before the girl can finish talking. Eventually the waters stop, coming to a standstill in the silence of it all. Suspended in the gap between time and space, she floats, quiet and still. She is dead- or at least, Sakura Haruno is dead. So then who does that make her? A Haruno or a Hadou? Light filters in from above, casting shadows over the waters of time. For a moment she hears it all- sees it all. She is dead and alive, part of both but not belonging to one or the other. The light engulfs her, running from her beating heart to the tips of her fingers. It spreads in a fiery tingle, down her limbs and sparking in her veins. The power floods through her, coiling and spiralling into oblivion. _She is alive with power. _

She couldn't save Ino.

She couldn't help Sasuke.

She couldn't stop Madara.

She failed. But this time, things are going to be different.

Her name is Sakura Hadou.

And it's time to be a hero.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you upset, Saku-chan?" asks Nejire, poking at her stomach. The three-year old huffs, looking surprisingly angry for someone who still uses a booster seat. Nejire pouts, eyes glistening with what Sakura _knows_ to be fake tears. Nejire is tooth-achingly sweet, but wields puppy eyes and emotional manipulation like a seasoned Kiri-nin.

"Come on Saku, preschool isn't all that bad," Nejire flops back into her seat, blue pigtails almost smacking her in the face.

For the past three years she's been living as Sakura Hadou, and she doesn't know what to make of it. Just like everything, she supposes, there are the highs and the lows. There was that one time tou-san left her at the park and she had to wait five hours for him to notice and come looking for her. (She was one and a half, her legs got tired after walking the first block ). Or there was that one time when Nejire spilled hot soup on her when Kaa-san went to the shops. (Nejire wouldn't stop crying so she had to sit in a puddle of pumpkin and leeks until she stopped).

In the past three years, she had witnessed accidents, mishaps and utter catastrophes. But at the same time she had learned to love this trainwreck of family, despite their flaws and Nejires incessant talking. When the car finally rolls to a stop outside "Sunny Childrens Daycare", Sakura has to resist the urge to scratch her eyes out. She almost does it. Almost. Instead she unbuckles herself from her seat and slips out the door, footsteps silent and cautious. Her older sister, on the other hand, springs out the vehicle and drags their father to the gates, itching to be let inside. Sakura follows her close behind, pulling on the loose threads that have escaped her smock.

"Tou-sannn hurry…."

As soon as she's through those glass doors she's hit with an assault of play-doh and smiley-face stickers. There are twenty-three sticky-fingered children screeching at the top of their lungs, and _good lord_ are they loud. For the first time since she'd come back as a baby Sakura almost, _almost_ wishes she'd stayed dead. Almost. Her father gives her a gentle nudge and a peck on the cheek, ruffling her hair with an easy grin. She scowls, smoothing her hair back into its flat, dignified state.

"I don't see why I'm here. I'm more mature than Nejire and the staff members combined," she scoffs, and her dad laughs.

"That may be true but you're still _three_, Saku-chan. Enjoy it will it lasts."

Nejire gives her one last bone-crushing hug and skips off to find her friends in the next room over. Sakura sighs reluctantly, entering the room with her silent footfalls and a grace only years of training can provide. The daycare smells strongly of crayons and hand soap, papers littered across the floor in a snowdrift. She sits down in one of the stained, lumpy cushions and scans the bookshelf with a critical, practised eye. Sakura picks the thickest book she can find, which is, unsurprisingly, only thirteen pages long. She runs out of reading material quickly (children's books consist mainly of pictures and pop-up finger puppets, after all). Snapping the book closed with a sigh, she wedges it back into the shelf and wanders off in search of better things.

She turns her back on the sand pit and the dollhouse covered in black sharpie scrawl. Stating to the staff that she'd rather cut her fingers off then dip them in paint for "fun", much to her horror. After you've been through a Great War and S-Rank missions with Kakashi-sensei, play-doh just isn't that exciting anymore.

It's going to be a long day.

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That night she curls up in bed beside her older sister, face squished against her chest in the covers of the dark. Despite the two of them having their separate beds, Sakura feels safer knowing she's protecting Nejire at all times. And, okay- it feels nice being cuddled by someone for once. Despite the fact that she's an eighteen-year old battle hardened ninja, a part of her is still three years old and scared of the dark. Sakura knows that parts of her- both Sakura's- are broken. Pieces of her float in and out of consciousness- sometimes she's Inner- angry and demanding. Other times she's three- literally three again, talking in incoherent babble and laughing at the top of her lungs. (Other Sakura is the most annoying, mostly due to the fact that she can barely talk in sentences). Ever since she came back as Sakura Hadou, she has been caught in the crossfire of two more sets of thoughts. Like three people sharing a body instead of one.

Being three people has never felt more isolating.

"Saku-chan?"

"Hmmmm…?" she answers, half-asleep.

"Do you ever think about...heroes?"

"What about them?"

"Do you ever think about ..._being _one?"

A pause.

What does she say to that? Nejires Quirk is powerful- Nejire _is _powerful. Her Quirk is untamed and wild, thrumming with untapped power that Sakura can feel in her very bones. Nejire is kind but she is soft-hearted and too, _too_ giving. Too willing to throw herself away in the name of peace, like Sakura had once been. But Sakura has seen war. Seen battle and death and destruction. Has seen the tears of innocents water the fields of blood-soaked earth, and bright-eyed "heroes" fall victim to the clutches of death. This world is no different. Behind the colourful costumes and spandex suits, there is _pain and suffering, _she knows it as well as she knows her own_. _Who is there after the hero wins the fight? Who is there to bring them back over the edge, as they cling to life with by the shreds of their fingernails. Who's there to give heroes their second chance? Sakura had hers. But what about Nejire?

She sees kindness and trust in those round, blue eyes. Nejire is soft and nurturing, inquisitive and bold. She would be an excellent hero, like Naruto, like Ino, like Lee. She wonders if she'll lose them all. But after eighteen years of breathing, living, fighting, _existing _in this world she knows that heroes, true heroes- are hard to come by. People will fight for glory, fight for wealth or the thrill. But so few fight to protect those who cannot fight themselves. The world had robbed her of Ino. The world had robbed Akira of her innocence. Had robbed Sakura of her wholeness. But she will not rob the world of another hero.

"You want to know if _I _think you'll be a good hero, right?" she asks.

"Well, you know lots of stuff about them, right Saku-chan?"

"I guess," she answers, rolling to sit up as Nejire follows suit. The blankets tents above them, moonlight illuminating the surrounding darkness.

"Heroes gotta be strong, right? Like big muscles and stuff," Nejire questions, buzzing with a newfound excitement. Sakura laughs, ruffling her hair affectionately. _She's got a long way to go. _

"Big muscles and _stuff _isn't what makes you a good hero. Strength that really counts is in here," she pokes her heart. "And here," she says, poking right in the centre of her forehead, smiling.

Under the covers of a thousand twinkling stars, Nejire hooks their pinkies together with a promise. In the reflection of Nejire's iris she can see her own, white pupil expand and spark with chakra. The world around her begins to buzz, fading in and out of colour. The chakra in her body _sings- _the song of a thousand promises flooding through her at once. She knows this power as surely as the sun knows the moon. Like it has always been there- has always been a part of her. For a perfect, still, moment- there is nothing. And there is _everything. _

"_Promise me onee-chan, that we'll be heroes together!" _

The light swallows them both.

This. _This _is her Quirk. The pieces of her mind meld into one-a singular voice ringing out across the chasm of space. _This is who you are. Who you are meant to be. _And it is. Sakura Haruno never got her chance to be a hero, but Sakura Hadou will. She will make sure of it. The world has torn her down, broken her body and soul into pieces that fall through her bloodied fingers like sand. But she is ready. Ready to meld it back together and start on this journey again.

And this time she won't be alone.

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_2 Years Later_

Again.

Again.

Again.

"Nejire, _focus_"

In a low sweeping kick, Nejire is knocked to the ground. Landing with a soft _thump, _she gasps as the air leaves her lungs in a whoosh. The seven-year old groans, sweaty blue bangs flopping over her face. She rolls onto her back, breathing heavily. Sighing, Sakura drops to the floor beside her, pink hair dripping (disgustingly) with sweat. They've been at it for hours, but it's a one-sided battle.

"You're too stiff when you move and your footwork is too slow- it's like fighting a cardboard box," she says, puffing slightly. "Actually, scratch that. The cardboard box would fight back."

"Aagh! I know, I know!It's just so _hard,_" Nejire groans, rubbing at the tender bruise on her arm. "How'd you pick this up so quickly? When did you even _learn _to fight?"

_Hours of endless kata drills. Six years in the Academy. Training until my fingers bled and my toenails fell off. Kakashi hitting her with his porn book until she got it right. Tsuande hitting her with _boulders _until she got it right. Going through the War because the prospect of _dying _usually keeps people on their toes. _

Really, the list goes on.

"YouTube," she settles on.

Her sister sighs, sitting up and scraping her hair back into it's messy ponytail.

"Figures."

Pushing herself to her feet, she rolls out her shoulders and slips back into a defensive position. Her drive is what Sakura has always admired most. She's so young, but so ready to focus and train. She's the splitting image of who Sakura used to be- of how _badly _she'd wanted to be a ninja before she got caught in the trap of looking pretty and _Sasuke, _of all people. Grinning, she matches her, feet slipping back into the familiar position. Fuck, it feels good to fight again. Sakura falls back into the rhythm of things, pulling blows that would have sent Nejire spiralling across the room.

Ever since Nejire was scouted in March, she's been taking her "hero" training more seriously. Knowing she was under the watchful eye of future investors, the pressure had finally set in. Her adorably decorated pigtails had become a singular ponytail, cut three inches shorter at her demand. She'd switched paper dolls for hero figurines, particularly taking a liking to All Might and a variety of other female heroes. (They've had several arguments over who the best hero is, but Sakura stands strong by her choice. All Might may be the #1 hero, but Endeavour makes up for his second place standing with a raucous laugh and a fiery moustache)

"_If i'm going to go pro I gotta be the best, right? And that means knowing how to fight."_

She ducks a clumsy jab from Nejire, grabbing her wrist and her shoulder and wrenching her aside. Her older sister slams to the floor, face smacking off the tatami mats so hard that Sakura winces. _Cool it, would you. She's seven, for fucks sake. _Inner has grown increasingly louder over the past few years, much to her chagrin. _**I prefered it when you disappeared and kept your mouth shut**_, she bites back, feeling guilty all the same. She helps Nejire to her feet, whose eyes are quickly filling with tears that she's desperately trying to hold back. A month ago she would have burst into tears, sobbing in that messy, painful way that involves a shit ton of snot and tissues. Instead she blots her eyes and sets her mouth in a tight line, ready to start again. She sniffles once, twice, and adjusts her feet-this time, on the offense. Sakura cocks her eyebrow, sensing the buzz of Nejire's distinct chakra fill the white pupil flickers, the blue hair surrounding her face flaring up in an unseen breeze.

"Fight me again. This time, with your Quirk."

Sakura grins, teeth bared, and complies. Chakra floods through her, swallowing the blue in her eyes. When they snap open they're glowing- alight with power. Chakra pools in the palm of her hand, a pure, hot white ball of light spiking with with power.

They lunge.

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The orb of light explodes, basking the room in a blinding glow. Nejire yelps, throwing her arms over her eyes and squeezing them shut. Sakura dashes forward, landing a roundhouse kick to her unprotected mid-section. Gasping, she falls back, opening her eyes as light around them disappears. Nejire sends a shockwave in her direction, energy spiralling across the room. Sakura drops to her knees, rolling to the side as the blast sails over her head. The shock wave slams into the wall, the residual blast making the hanging light overheard flicker and shake. Sakura dives forward, upper-cut grazing Nejires chin as she launches to the side, grabbing a hold of Sakura's foot.

"HA!"

Sakura is wrenched upwards, the ground rising up to meet her. She slams painfully into the mats, wincing as her head strikes the floor. She kicks-up, landing solidly on her feet. She ducks and weaves, Nejire's fists flying past her face. They dance across the room, trading blows as sweat pours down her back. Sakura ducks, but as she does, Nejire pivots sharply, elbow connecting with her nose. She hears the sickening crunch of bone and Nejires' gasp of horror.

Her hands fly to her face, clutching at the broken bone as hot, red blood spills through her fingers. Pain blooms in a sudden swell and she hisses through gritted teeth, probing at the splintered fragments.

"Oh- Saku-chan! I'm _so sorry, _oh kami-sama! I can get kaa-san, just hold on-"

"Wait! Don't, it's fine," she blinks away the tears welling in her eyes and channels chakra into her palm.

The bone melds back together, the pain turning into a dull, aching throb, and then disappearing completely. Her hands fall away and she sighs, her small palms coated in blood. Nejire gingerly lends her a tissue and she wipes away the worst of it, cringing at the rusty stains under her nails. Her healing isn't what it used to be, so she cautiously taps the bridge of her nose. There's no pain or swelling or the faintest of bumps. It's like it never happened at all.

"Saku-chan, your nose...how- are you okay, I mean?" Nejire dabs at the crusted blood with a wet-wipe, taking this all surprisingly well.

"It's nothing, really. It's fixed, see?" She doesn't want to even _try _explaining what happened.

Nejire's brow creases with concern, but she drops it, unwilling to pursue the matter further.

_Hah! Elbowed in the face by a little kid. God, since when did you get so slow, Outer? _Inner cackles with uncontained laughter. _Fuck, are you getting old or something? _ Sakura rolls her eyes inwardly, throwing an assuring smile her sisters way.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Excellent form by the way- you've finally managed to catch me off guard, hm?" She ruffles her blue hair affectionately and the tension fades from her face.

_**I'm not getting slower. She's getting faster. **_She quips back, proud of her older (or technically younger…?) sister.

"You've been getting faster ever since you started training," she hops to her feet, picking at the blood crusted beneath her nails.

"Really, you think so?" Nejire lights up, stars appearing in her eyes.

"Mhm. Your Quirk is rapidly increasing in power and your katas are finally up to standard- by the time you get to UA you're going to be miles in front of your peers. Maybe even the #1 hero some day," she adds.

Nejire beams, blinking softly in the fluorescent light. Sighing, she sprawls out on the floor, yawning widely as her eyes slip close. Sakura pets her hair as she promptly falls asleep, tucking the curtain of hair that falls over her face behind her ear. She unties the jumper knotted around her waist and slides it under Nejires resting head, curling up beside her. Sparring is tiring enough, but Quirks use up energy big time. The spongy floor beneath them smells unpleasantly of chalk and socks, but she ignores it, letting exhaustion pull her under. The dojo fades to black and Sakura finds herself falling, crashing through the thick forest growth. Her voice catches in her throat, lodged in her oesophagus as she lets out a silent scream. Branches whip around her, scratching at her face and snagging at her clothes. Her limbs are longer, substantially so- she's fifteen again. She locks her arms over her face as the twigs and branches tear at her, ripping at her skin and drawing blood.

She bursts into the clearing, landing flat on her back as leaves drift in circles around her. She feels no pain, only a strange sense of weightlessness as she ascends to her feet. Her legs move on their own accord, heading North as the sky darkens to a murky grey. Konoha or modern day Japan, she doesn't know. One foot in front of the other she reaches a cliff overlooking the sea, the dark waters churning and tearing at the shoreline beneath her. As the clouds part and light blooms above her, a singular voice rings out over the void.

_Fate…_

_...Fate...is… an intangible thing ...No matter how hard or how much you try to change it, time is unbending to the mortal hand. It is like the ocean and it's many rivers. No matter where they bend or where they hail, they all lead to one greater destiny…._

…_..You cannot fight the river or the pull of the water… instead, let it lead you. Guide you. And you will find yourself in the place you have always belonged…._

Lightning tears the stillness asunder and the light begins to fade, the dark clouds closing in. Thoughts are racing through her head faster than she can latch onto them, Inner and Other screaming at full volume.

"Wait! What do you mean, what does this all mean?!"

Thunder answers her empty call, rumbling across the sky in a deafening wave.

_Your life ended that day on the battlefield- but your destiny was not yet complete. I saw more in you that day, Sakura Haruno. More than a medic sent to the rear of a battle, more than a token kunoichi, a fighter more than just Sakura Haruno. I gave you this second chance, make of it what you will. Who you are is up to you. _


	3. Chapter 3

Her breath escapes her in puffs of morning fog, grey clouds rolling over the dark morning sky. It's roughly four am and the sun is looming on the horizon, the star studded expanse fading to blue. She relishes the burning ache in her thighs and calves, and the muscles she's acquired over the past few weeks. (She has no intention of being the next All Might at age five, but she's getting tired of not being able to lift anything larger than a cereal box.) She jogs the next half hour in silence, a lone figure racing through the streets of Nagano prefecture. Her rubber soles slap at the ground as she makes her way down the street, slowing to a walk as she catches her breath. Sakura turns the corner of her block, her breathing laboured and her shirt collar damp with sweat.

The Hadou household is small and modest, favouring a simplistic, outdated style. Peaking out of the letterbox is a thick, white envelope. Curious. Turning it over in her hands, she takes note of the red wax seal on the back, and the emblazoned letters on the front. The UA crest is embossed in gold, the words "Hero Academy" gleaming under the flickering street light. Her breathing falters. Holy fuck. She bounds up the steps and unlocks the front door with the spare key, turning on the hallway lights as she shrugs off her jacket and kicks off her shoes. No doubt that whatever inside is addressed for Nejire, but a letter from UA? It's like Christmas and being reincarnated rolled into one.

She form a three inch chakra blade extending from her index finger, glowing blue in the dimly lit kitchen. With precision that only a practised surgeon (which she is) can obtain, she slices open the paper and lets the folded note slip out onto the table. Sakura unfolds the letter and begins to read.

_UA Hero Academy_

_Tokyo, Japan_

_To the caregivers/parents of Nejire Hadou,_

_We cordially invite you and your family to an educational night at UA Academy. Your child, Nejire Hadou, has been specifically chosen for this event because of her discovered talent and abilities. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for those wishing to enter the Pro Hero career to get a head start. The Children's Hero program runs from 6:30 to 8:00, and will include an insight to the courses that UA offers. As one of Japan's leading Hero academies, we promise you that your child is always our number one priority. _

_Receivers of this invitation are some of the finest in the region. Specifically, those who have been scouted by other agencies or have been reported to have powerful or skillful use over their Quirks. It is important to us as a faculty that we cultivate the children from a young age, allowing them to be the best heroes that they can be in the future. We would be honoured if you would attend our evening program on the 16th of June. Please RSVP using the address provided below. _

_Kind Regards,_

_Nezu (Principal of UA High School)_

_UA High School, Shizuoaka Prefecture Japan_

Holy.

Fuck.

.

.

.

The UA main hall is buzzing with activity, little super-powered children running up and down the polished floors. A trio of red and white children brush past her, white flames singing the floor where their footsteps used to be.

"Sorry!"

Nejire squeezes her hand, shooting her a wide, toothy grin.

"Isn't it so cool, Saku-chan? This is where we're going to be, someday. I know it," she gives her a chaste hug and runs to join the other children, who crowd around the heroes like ants to a sugar cube. Her parents are whisked off by a _mouse in a suit_, of all things, and she's left alone. Sighing, she makes a beeline for the refreshments table and pours herself a cup of soda, scowling bitterly. She misses the taste of sake on her tongue- and although she had never been fond of alcohol, drinking with Tsunade made it taste a dozen times better. She sits in the rickety plastic chair, swirling the orange drink in her cup as it bubbles and fizzes She misses Konoha, she really does. The Leaf had been her life, and everything she had ever known had existed in those scared walls. She wrinkles her nose at the sugary taste, downing the carbonated drink in one go.

Sakura adores Nejire- adores her new family, but she misses the one she'd left behind. She tosses the cup into the bin and rests her head on the wall, tuning in to the sound of a hundred pounding feet and tinkling laughter.

It all happens so suddenly.

The next thing she knows she's skidding across the glistening floors, the planks wet and sticky with her blood. The world is engulfed by the ringing in her ears, cooling bodies piled under chunks of shrapnel and debris. The chandelier above descends upon her, and she dives, the glass jewels shattering behind her. Villains covered in swathes of crimson descend from the gaping hole in the wall, toxic fumes spilling through the vents. She hears screaming and crying and the sound of bodies slumping unconscious to the floor. Theres is the familiar wet _shlick _of a blade, a severed head rolling to a stop near her foot. Scrambling to her feet, she elbows past the throng of screaming people and searches for her sister.

"Nejire? _Nejire!" _

Sulfur invades her nostrils and she holds her sleeve up to her nose, eyes stinging. Purple smoke billows around her ankles, climbing up the walls and seeping into peoples airways. Under the bloodied tablecloth she can see a head of blue hair, and she quickly dives under it. Nejire has backed herself against the wall, trembling and crying with her hands firmly clapped over her ears. A hoarse screech breaks through the sound of fighting, and is abruptly silenced by the noise of another explosion. Nejires only shakes harder, clinging to Sakura and burying her face in her shoulder. Inner is screaming.

_Get her out. Get her out. Get her OUT OF HERE. _

Sakura wrenches Nejire to her feet, grips her arm like a vise, and runs. She can barely see through the haze of purple smoke, and nothing seems to help- she's running blindly through the dark. The ringing in her ears is fading, and she can hear footsteps reverberating off the trembling floors. Sakura has spent a long enough time on the battlefield to know what happens next. Roughly, she shoves Nejire in the opposite direction, her older sister falling to her knees. A blade of pure silver erupts from the darkness, piercing her clean through her midsection. Nejire lets out a earth-shattering scream, pushing herself to her feet and ready to jump between the two of them. The villain slinks out from the dark, covered head to toe in a metallic sheen. She laughs, throwing her head back as she twists the blade deeper, blood spurting from the wound.

A searing pain rockets up her spine and Sakura coughs blood onto her hands, clutching at the sword that's run her through. Through the pain and the veil of tears, she sees her sister, tear-streaked and spotted with blood. Her hand is outstretched, ready for Sakura to take hold of it and run but she _can't. _She was supposed to protect Nejire from this- from all of this. And she's failed. She bites her tongue, blood filling her mouth as she manages to choke out one last word.

"_Run!" _

Nejire stares at her, blue eyes pooling with tears. She glances at Sakura one last time before turning, disappearing into the mist. The villain hisses through needle like teeth and withdraws the blade, the silver melting back into its liquid form. The hole in her stomach is steaming, quickly knitting itself back together under the guise of her pink dress. Her cells multiply, rapidly regrowing over the gaping wound.

"How..._heroic. _So honourable to throw your life away like that." The villain purrs, brandishing her metallic claws.

" So honourable and so _stupid,_" the villain leaps forward, grinning widely from ear to ear. Sakura feints left but she's too slow, the sword nicking her in the side. She punches the villain squarely in the jaw, her head snapping back with a screech, metal grinding on metal. But the villain only laughs again, clicking her jaw back into place. Sakura curses, twisting and dodging as she parries and swipes. Ducking under her arm, she kicks off the floor and swings her legs up drives her knee into the back of the villains head. Gasping, she falls to the floor and Sakura wrenches her arm back, kicking the blade out of her reach.

She pins the villain to the ground and channels nothing but pure chakra, light exuding from every pore in her body. She's not letting go. Her metal limbs glow red, then white- and the villain screeches in agony, seeping through her fingers as she melts to nothing. The wooden floor beneath them sizzles and pops, warping as the villain become nothing but an ash streaked shell. It is utter _torture _as the heat builds up in her hands, burning through her skin and her clothes. Finally, she crumbles away into silvery dust, streaking through Sakura's hair and staining the front of her burnt dress. The floor beneath her is scorched and flaking, ash and rust staining the ground beneath her. Her hand are patched with red and white, bleeding and burnt. Blisters spot her body like a disease, ugly and swollen.. Tears dribble from her eyes and she bites back a yelp, her hands glowing green as the pain begins to subside. The stench of burnt flesh is still branded in her mind, but she can't stop yet. Villains are still loose in UA, and her sister is still out there. _**Nejire, **_she thinks. _**I'm coming. **_

She sprints as fast as her legs can take her, pushing through the glass doors and into the classroom filled hallway. She pushes the toxins out of her system, sweat breaking out on her forehead. The toxic fog has made her woozy and nauseous, her stomach a winding knot. Tipping her head to the side, she coughs up the remaining soda left in her stomach, swiping at her mouth. Running into the nearest classroom, she closes the door behind her and dives under a table. Four villains run down the hallway and up to the sixth level, leaving blood and pain in their wake. She breathes a sigh of relief but her hands are _stinging_, all that's remaining of them is raw, red skin. Gritting her teeth, Sakura grabs the hem of her dress and rips, tearing the satin off in ribbons. With practised ease, she binds her hands in the makeshift bandages and peaks out into the hallway. Empty. _Good. _She's about to leave when she sees it- a spot of red in the sea of beige desks.

Mis-matched eyes look up at her through two-toned hair, half red and half white. She has seen that turquoise eye and that red hair plastered on billboards across the city, on the front cover of Heroes Weekly and on the news. She's about to reach out to him when the floor beneath them caves, the planks of wood turning to sludge beneath their feet. The boy, roughly her age, extends his hand to hers, his eyes engulfed in fear. She takes it, gripping him tight as the pair fall five stories down into the abyss. Sakura reaches out, searching for anything- something that will save them. Her fingers meeting nothing but air and dust. A scream escapes her, frustration and anger and fear spilling from her lips as she screams and screams and screams. It isn't fair. It isn't _fucking _fair. She's done everything right- tried to make the best of this new world with these new people and faces she hasn't yet familiarised herself with. Has tried to forget Ino and Naruto and Sasuke and the life she had to leave behind.

The world slows.

She turns to left, staring at the boy with the two-toned hair and the soft, mismatched eyes. Hot, angry tears well in her eyes. She'd tried to do everything right- and maybe she had. Nejire would survive- she _had _to survive. She would grow up and get into UA, become a pro hero and blow the competition out of the water. Mizuki would mourn the loss of her daughter- but would still cheer just as loudly when the other appeared on tv. Her father would become Nejire's campaign manager- proud, _so proud _of the daughter who got to live the dream he never could. No matter what happened next- Sakura would always cherish the sister she'd come to love and the hero she would never get to see grow up.

The boy grips her hand tightly, staring dead straight into her eyes. They're crying- they're both crying- because this is it. She squeezes his hand right back, a false reassurance of the death that's sure to come. She stares into those eyes, knowing very well they will be the last thing she sees.

"_I'm sorry." _

And she is. She hopes this boy gets his second chance.

She closes her eyes and lets herself fall.

_Fin. _

.

.

.

.

Or not.

A blur of yellow and blue rushes up to meet them, catching the pair in warm, muscular arms He lands, dus blooming in waves beneath his feet. Sakura latches onto his suit, clutching at the fabric like her life depends on it. She looks up at him through the curtain of pink hair, his blinding smile shining brighter than her light ever could. _All Might. The _All Might. He sets the two of them down gently, ruffling their hair with a fatherly like affection. Normally, she would be annoyed. But he just saved their lives and it's _All Might, _for God's sake- so she resists the urge to slap his hand away and gapes at him in awe.

"Quickly- exit the building little ones. Your parents are waiting for you outside, hhurry now." He says it with such warmth and tenderness that she nods furiously, her fingers still interlocked with the boys. Without warning, she wraps him in a hug, her arms barely reaching around the circumference of his chest.

"_Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you," _she whispers, before letting him go and dragging them both towards the exist. She looks back at the boy with the mismatched eyes and the two-toned hair streaked with ash. She smiles at him, warm and gentle. Because it's going to be okay. It really is.

They burst through the glass doors hand in hand and into the night, where paramedics and three police cars are already waiting. She lets the boy go, watching as he runs into the arms of his white haired mother. She pulls him close, wiping at the tears that fall down his face and hugs him tight to his chest. She scolds him gently, before bursting into a fresh onset of tears. "_You're okay…. You're really okay….Shouto…"_

"Sakura!"

Mizuki is clawing at five heavily armed officers, tears running tracks through her soot covered cheeks. She looks about ready to knock them aside and leap over the red police tape, desperately reaching for her daughter. Her father stands next to her, a little more timid but vocal with his desperation.

"Stop! Stop it! Get off me- that's my _daughter! _Please, Sakura!"

"Kaa-san!"

She shoves past the officers and leaps into her mother's arms, wrapping herself around her middle. Mizuki runs her hands soothingly through Sakura's hair, trembling as she clutches her daughter close to her chest.

"Saku-chan?"

She knows that voice.

Sakura turns, detangling herself from her mothers close embrace. She tackles her sister to the ground, scouring her limbs for bruises and gashes. She finds small bumps and cuts, but for the most part, she is okay. Nejire crushes her in a hug, dabbing at the blood on her face with the tatters of her dress.

"Saku-chan, I thought you were dead...I saw- and I..I'm," Nejire fumbles for the right words, tears flowing freely from her eyes.. Sakura whispers to her soothingly, circulating her chakra through Nejires system for any irregularities. The small cuts and bumps heal themselves, the swelling disappearing with the wave of her hand. Nejire clutches at the fabric of Sakura's dress, torn and soaked with blood. All that remains is a thin, pink scar, tracing from the bottom of her ribs to her navel. It's like it had never happened at all. Nejire stares at her with eyes that mirror her own- blue and red and puffy. A silent understanding passes between the two of them. Nejire will never know why Sakura heals so quickly, will never know about her life in Konoha, or her time in the war. But maybe she doesn't need to know everything to understand it- to understand her sister.

The future is unclear, a path branching off in millions of directions. Infinite possibilities are laid out at her feet, waiting for her to make her next move. Shrouded in fog, she doesn't know where it will lead her, or what will happen next.

But for now, she knows, that things will be okay.

.

.

.

.

_10 Years Later…._

The light above them casts a yellow glow of the papers on the desk, stacked in piles and spread out before her. She rifles through the names of numerous high schools, all highly ranked throughout the city. The four that she has out in front of her are all hero schools- but not the one she's looking for.

"Hadou-san, what career path are you considering?" asks the school counsellor, who she knows is uninterested with her answer.

"Hero," she replies "I want to be a hero."

He Looks at her through his thick lensed glasses, eyebrow raised.

"With all due respect, Hadou-san, it's very hard to be successful in the Hero industry. It's an extremely dangerous job, and to be frank, many new heroes die in the first year as a pro. Do you understand what you're getting yourself into?"

"Of course, Tanaka-sama. But this is the path that I chose for myself, and what I've trained for. I'm ready for it," she says.

Sighing, he slips the form across the table. _UA High School- Hero Academy _is printed on the front, the form several pages long. Sakura fills out the blanks with ease- because this, _this _is what she has been waiting for. Glossy pictures of the UA Campus are painted on the front, different from when she had last seen it. She sets the pen down, flipping the booklet over to the last page. In bold red letters is one, singular phrase.

_Are you ready to be a hero? _


End file.
